The Next World
by MothGod
Summary: 3 years after the start of the zombie apocalypse is where our main character finds herself. 20 years old and trying to survive alone in the world of the walking dead. Rated T, may go up as the story progresses.
1. Chapter 1

I opened my eyes, and blinked a few times.

The light in this room was bright and harsh, and I squinted to be able to see better.

"-tle are you even listening to me?" someone snapped at me. I suddenly became aware of my surroundings, I was sitting at the table in the kitchen and my mother was yelling at me.

Shaking my head, I looked at her. "Sorry mom, got lost in my thoughts again," I apologized, and she sighed.

"I SAID, we need to start packing our stuff. Your grandparents are waiting for us, and it's a 15-hour drive to Atlanta from here. I don't want to be unnecessarily late," she huffed, "and we still have to pick up Theo on the way."

Ah yes, my mother planned a 'family vacation' to see my grandparents. Luckily, I was able to convince her to let me bring Theo, my boyfriend, along. Don't get me wrong, I love my grandparents, but it gets boring being the only one my age after a few hours. Hit with a sudden wave of drowsiness, I let my eyes fall shut.

I opened my eyes once again to see the back of a car seat. I looked around and saw Theo snoozing beside me, a small snail trail of drool coming from his mouth, giggling at the sight.

"Finally up?" Mom asked, peering into the rear view mirror at me. I rubbed my eyes. "I think so! How long left do we have?" I replied, before rummaging through my bag for my water bottle.

"Oh, probably 3 hours or so left. Want to drive? I could really use a nap" She whined.

Laughing, I agreed. Mom pulled the car over and got into the passenger seat. "I'll hook up the GPS for you, go slap that N on the car" she called, and began fiddling with the device.

When I opened my eyes this time, the three of us were standing outside of my grandparents' house, and mom's finger was just leaving the doorbell. Moments later, the seasoned faces of my grandparents appeared at the door, and ushered us in quickly. They gave us hugs and kisses and exchanged greetings before shooing us away to get situated.

Later that evening, after dinner, we were all lounging in the living room with the TV on, getting ready to watch the news.

"I wonder if there is any update on that sickness going around," my grandfather commented, with a hint of worry in his voice.

"Sickness?" Mom asked, letting out a nervous laugh, and he nodded. "There seems to be a plague going around farther south than us. All sick people have been quarantined, and everyone deemed healthy enough is being evacuated to Atlanta, or other major cities. From what I heard it's pretty bad." He replied, worry straining voice. "Thankfully the farthest it has come so far is Macon."

Finally, it hit 6 pm and we switched channels to watch the news, and we were confronted with a terrifying reality.

"BREAKING NEWS Live, now! I'm Linda Jackson and this is Atlanta News coming at you with new and urgent news. This just in from sources at the CDC, cases of this new virus are spreading quickly, turning people into unresponsive, cannibalistic, walking carriers. The disease has been seen as far north as south Atlanta. Pack the necessities and get to safety as soon as possible." The tv said, and turned to static.

We all sat there in dumbfounded shock for a few moments before scrambling in panic to get things together.

Mom sat there in shock, and after a few moments began to hyperventilate. She never was good with emergencies. Theo rushed over to comfort her, as myself and my grandparents began packing up necessities.

My grandfather appeared next to me with a back pack in his hands.

"This is for you, my rose. Do not let anyone else see the contents, not even your mother. People do scary things in rough situations, and I don't want you to risk it. This is for just in case everything goes to shit and we must part. I know you know how to use these." He said firmly, and began running stuff out to the car.

I peeked in the bulky bag, and it was full of non-perishable foods, ammunition, 2 pistols, 3 knives, a book on edible American plants, a first aid kit and some other assorted things. Thankfully my father, bless his soul, was obsessed with survival training.

He taught me how to shoot with an assortment of guns, how to hunt and dress wild animals, and most importantly, how to survive.

As I finished packing, my grandma came toddling around with bandanas. "Tie these to your face, so that the cover your nose and mouth," she explained, and left to help Theo get my poor mother to the car.

I opened my eyes with a panic, as I felt the car rattle around me.

I still had the backpack strapped to me, and we were all in the car, on our way to somewhere, anywhere away from Atlanta. As I looked out the window, all I could see was orange fire and I could hear explosives being dropped on Atlanta.

Theo gripped my hand. "It's okay babe, it'll be okay" he said in a soothing voice, though it was laced with terror.

I could hear my mother crying softly beside me, my grandparents in the front seat. I looked up at his face to find comfort, safety, but with a jolt of panic I realized I could no longer see any of his features, his face was just hazy gray.

Suddenly feeling like I couldn't breathe, I look over at my mother. Even though I could hear her quiet sobs of terror, there was just a hazy gray in place of her face.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" my grandmother asked, and with the last shred of hope in my heart I looked up at her. Instead of her soft, wrinkled face, was a hazy gray cloud. Bolted in my spot with immobilizing fear, I screamed.

Suddenly, the car melted away, along with the gray faces of my family.

I was in the forest, running and running, out of air for a long time but I couldn't stop running. I could hear Theo panting just behind me, but didn't stop to let him catch up.

Then all I could hear was screaming, and the moans of the dead. Letting out a sob, I pushed myself to gain a small burst of speed, trying to outrun and lose the group of walking dead behind me.

I felt my foot catch a root and my body hit the filthy ground with an 'oomph'. The last thing I heard behind me before my vision went black, was the last thing my boyfriend would ever scream.

"THHIISSTLLE…." Before fading off into darkness, my name echoing in my ears.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke with a start, drenched in my own sweat, the early morning already sticky and humid.

My nightmare was already fading away from memory, leaving nothing but a light sense of fear in my gut.

Not that that was abnormal of course.

I've been alone by myself for almost 3 and a half years now, fated to die at the hands (or teeth) of the dead.

It's been about 4 years since the end of the world had descended upon us. I lost my mom and grandparents near the start to the flesh eaters, and faced a rude awakening to what our world had become.

Turns out the virus making everyone sick was actually killing them, and bringing them back into some sort of undead flesh-eating monster.

Nearly 6 months later I lost Theo to a small herd of those dead fuckers. We were making a food run, and got swarmed.

I was forced to leave him behind, because no matter how much you love someone, it's survival of the fittest in this new world. I knocked myself out tripping on a root or something dumb, and I only managed to survive because the dead were too busy feasting on the flesh of my lover.

I've grown and matured over the years, thank God.

No longer am I a care free teenager. There is no time for that in this new world, especially when you very well could be the last human on earth.

It had been months since I've seen living beings, maybe a year or more. I hardly can keep track anymore, as the days sort of just seamlessly blend together. I watched from the underbrush as two groups of people duked it out over some prison. I left when the killing began, and that was the last time I saw living humans.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I set to work untying myself from the tree.

My set up is pretty simple. It's just a hole dug in the roots of an ancient tree, where I kept all my non-essentials, covered by a couple leafy branches. At night I scale the massive tree, and sleep in a sitting position on a suitable branch.

To ensure I don't fall to my death in the night, I tie myself onto the branch and hope for the best. It's not the most comfortable, but I'm not dead yet, so I must be doing _something_ right.

Humming to myself, I dropped from the tree and staggered to regain my balance.

When I achieved balance, I decided to eat breakfast before venturing out. I shoved my hand under the branches and leaf mould and felt around for a can of food. Feeling the familiar shape of the can under my hand, I brought it out. Vegetable soup with letter noodles.

My favorite.

Smiling, I pulled my knife from its sheath and set to work trying to open it. Finally, after a few moments of frustration, the top popped open enough for me to sip from the can. I downed a quarter of the can and set it aside for my next meal.

Deciding I had wasted enough time, I wiped my mouth and began to make my way down to the stream so I could wash my face and have some water.

I was lucky enough to find the small bubbling stream, and so close to my camp as well. I carefully stepped over the trip wire I had set up, hoping to not set off any sounds that may attract roamers.

Stressing about being overrun by the roamers at a vulnerable time led me to set up cans attached to strings and put it in a wide circle around my camp to alert me if anything decided to wander through, dead or alive.

I strolled through the vibrant, green forest towards the stream, looking forward to washing away some of the sticky sweat that coated my body from the nightmare last night. I stopped on the way to examine some wild berries, and after deciding they were safe to eat I picked a handful.

Happily munching on my berries, I hummed a new tune as I came to the bank of my stream. I removed my jacket, gloves and hat, and set to work cleaning my face. I decided to wet my shoulder length hair as well, seeing as I really didn't want crispy, sweaty hair.

Relishing the feeling of the cool water on my scalp, I closed my eyes for a moment to enjoy the rushing water.

After getting mild brain freeze, I removed my head and squeezed all the excess water from my hair. Running my fingers through it, I attempted to untangle some knots. I hissed as my fingers caught a particularly large knot. Once satisfied with my hair, I bunched it all up again and prepared to put it back in a ponytail.

As I was about to put the elastic back in, I heard a crunch, someone or thing stepping on some dead underbrush. Quickly, I threw my hair up in a haphazard bun, and dropped to the ground.

Sitting on the damp dirt, I scarcely breathed in fear someone, human or roamer may hear me. I sat for minutes, hoping that if I stayed quiet whatever was out there would just move on. A bead of sweat rolled down my face.

All I could hear was the chirps and humming of cicadas.

Hearing slight rustles in the underbrush to my left, I drew my knife and braced myself for attack. As the rustling got closer, I began to hear the moans of a roamer. A tiny rush of relief flowed through me. A roamer was much easier to kill than a fellow human.

I waited for the roamer to come into sight, now crouched, one knee to the ground and my knife at the ready. Just as the roamer came into my field of vision, I felt my body tense up as I prepared to lunge for it, to sink my knife in it's rotting brain.

To my surprise, and horror, I also saw a living, breathing person coming up behind it.

The man, a tall, balding man with a thick mustache, was stealthily creeping up on it with a large blade in his hand. To my dismay, as I watched him, the man stepped on something, and though I couldn't quite see what, it made a loud snapping noise. I sucked in a deep breath as the roamer turned around and began shambling towards him.

The roamer was upon him. No matter how much I wanted to remain safe in the thick underbrush, I ran forward, hoping to be able to save the man in case things went awry.

The man seemed to struggle with the roamer, and just as I was about to plunge my knife into the back of it's head, it dropped to the ground. And like a curtain being drawn, suddenly I could see him again.

The man stood there, his knife still in the air, dripping with the dead roamers blood. He was panting, sweat dripping down his face. His clothes were ruined from the blood and gore the roamer smeared on him. He seemed to be surprised to see me, his eyes wide with mixed emotions. After a few, long seconds, his eyes relaxed and his emotions wiped from his face. We maintained eye contact, and a suddenly a smile bloomed across his face, and he let out a shrill whistle.

At this moment, I immediately regretted my decision, fear pooling in my stomach.

I turned to run away, and found that I was surrounded by men with guns.

* * *

 **Hello reader! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'm hoping to upload at least once a week, maybe more.**

 **Constructive criticism is extremely welcome, and if you really like it maybe yknow, leave a review or something! See you in the next chapter!**


End file.
